


Be Watchful...

by Bluewolf458



Category: The Sentinel (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-31
Updated: 2020-01-31
Packaged: 2021-02-25 04:46:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22490284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bluewolf458/pseuds/Bluewolf458
Summary: After Blair gets a (basically) threatening letter, he remembers something from his past
Relationships: Jim Ellison & Blair Sandburg
Comments: 2
Kudos: 21





	Be Watchful...

Be Watchful...

by Bluewolf

'Poker night' - although they usually did play, always for low stakes, and Blair usually left with the most money, some nights it was only an excuse to get together and socialize. After two or three hands, cards were forgotten and conversation became more general. On this particular 'poker' night, the conversation drifted to childhood memories by way of childhood pets, after Megan mentioned having had a pet wallaby when she was a child.

One by one they recalled treasured - or in Rafe's case some very unpleasant - memories. (At ten, Rafe had been molested by an aunt, and it had left him somewhat wary of women, though he admitted he had no problems with Megan or Rhonda; or Serena in Forensics. It was more older women he couldn't trust.) Finally only Blair was left, and the others waited expectantly for him to speak.

Instead, he shook his head. "I don't really remember much from before Rainier," he said. "Nothing that stands out. We - Mom and I - traveled a lot, but we never stayed long anywhere. Then not long after my sixteenth birthday I applied for a place at Rainier, got it, and I've been a student there since the fall of '85. I was a total geek, studying pretty well 14/7 in my Freshman year, the other ten hours being for eating and sleeping - I'd probably have studied a little more, but I was in a dorm, and for the Freshmen, bed by ten was mandatory.

"The other students were friendly enough, but I was far too young for them to want to socialize with me. And... well, I think they appreciated that I understood that. One or two are TAs now as well, and I do count them as friends, but back then - no. Friendly, but not friends. Studying filled my time. My strongest memories are from going on expeditions - mostly in South America, though there was one year I went to the Arctic and once to Indonesia, where we spent time with the Kombai, and wasn't that a blast! They live high up in tree houses, partly to get away from the mosquitos, partly for defense - historically there was a lot of conflict between the tribes.

"I think... though my interests mostly involved the Amazonian tribes, that trip to Indonesia stands out as my strongest 'old' memory."

"What about your Dad?" Megan asked. "You said you traveled with your Mum, but what about your Dad?"

Blair shook his head. "Mom never told me anything about him. She's implied a couple of times that she doesn't know who he was, implied that when she was young she - well, ran pretty wild, slept around; but I'm not sure I believe that. I think she knows, but for some reason doesn't want to tell me... "

"And if she did, now, she'd have to tell you why she never said anything in the past?"

Blair nodded. "It could have been that he lied, told her he was single when he was already married, then walked out when she told him she was pregnant. Though why she might think I'd care to know a man who would do that... "

Megan nodded, and they dropped the subject.

***

Four days later, working in his cramped 'office' at Rainier, Blair got a letter addressed to 'Mr. Sandburg'. It was postmarked Houston. He didn't recognize the writing, and opened it, wondering who could have sent it.

 _'Bruce.'_ He frowned. Bruce _? 'Of course, I suppose I should say 'Dear Bruce', but after what you did, I hesitate to say you are in any way dear to me._

_'A son should always obey his father. You did not. You betrayed me. Your mother was little better. The way she changed your names was clever - but I never doubted her intelligence. If you had remained with her, I doubt I would ever have found you; I have not yet found her, though having found you I now know what name she is using. But you were the one who ruined my business, not your mother; and your mistake was to settle in one place._

_'Be watchful, Bruce. I will make you pay for the years you have cost me._

_'Harold Walker.'_

Blair frowned. Who was Harold Walker?

***

Something about the letter triggered... not a memory, exactly, but an uneasy awareness of... something.

He turned to his computer and began digging.

It didn't take long for him to discover that Blair Sandburg, born May 24 1969, didn't exist. Neither did Naomi Sandburg, born August 10th 1952. There had been a Naomi Sandburg born in August 1952 who had a son Blair, but they had both died in an accident in 1970. And that knowledge, coupled with the letter, triggered a memory.

A memory from... yes, when he was ten.

Oh, God!

His name - his real name - was Bruce Walker. And when he was ten, he had discovered that his father - who ran an antique shop - had a very lucrative sideline fencing stolen goods. He had found out by accident, took several weeks to confirm what he had overheard, and was horrified when he did.

His father didn't just fence stolen goods - he had several burglars working for him, and directed them to what he wanted and where they would find it. He had a number of less-than-totally-honest customers who gave him a 'shopping list' of things they wanted. He knew the market value of these items to the last cent, and gave his 'workers' 40% of that value, keeping the rest. That payment was more than any of the burglars would get from any other fence, and they knew it.

Bruce asked his mother about it, and was unhappy to learn that she knew about her husband's criminal behavior.

"It's wrong!" he said.

"I know," his mother said, "but Bruce - I love him. I've tried to persuade him that it's wrong to steal from people - some of the stolen items must have sentimental value because I can't think that all of the rich people here are just collectors, only interested in the value of their collections. But he won't listen to me. He just sees supplying collectors with things that they want - without asking how he gets those things - as providing a service."

"Mom - I know I'm still very young, but I can't accept what he's doing. I have to tell the police."

She was silent for a few moments, then said quietly, "If you do, we'll have to go away from here, change our names, maybe never settle anywhere."

"Better that than know we're living off stolen money."

And so Bruce went to the police. As it happened, they were already suspicious of Harold Walker; they arrested him, and he was sentenced to thirty-five years in prison. _But,_ Blair reflected, _with good behavior... might he have been allowed parole?_

Bruce's mother knew someone who provided them with new identities - Naomi and Blair Sandburg, a mother and son who had died in an accident eight years previously, and whose ages were close to theirs.

Harold Walker had provided his wife with plenty of money, but she had also inherited a lot when her parents died, and she had banked that in an account of her own but never touched it. Now she withdrew that money from the bank her husband used and deposited it in a rival bank, using her new name. She knew her son would have reservations about using money provided by his father, but the money from her parents was honest money.

And her friend also supplied her with the name of a hypnotist, who hypnotized Bruce to think of himself as Blair, and to 'remember' the previous years as having been spent traveling. Although she was well aware of her son's intelligence, she was afraid that at his age he might forget the need for caution and secrecy, and accidentally betray their true names.

From then on, because they really were traveling, she home-schooled Blair. And when they needed their passports renewed, her friend would be able to see to that.

They traveled the world for five years, with the occasional short trip back to America.

***

When he was fifteen, Blair decided he wanted to go to university. His mother settled in Cascade - about as far from Texas, where they had lived until he had discovered that his father was a criminal, as she could think of and still be in America. Blair went to school there for a few months, then, armed with his exam results, he applied to Rainier University and was accepted.

Naomi - even now that he remembered the truth he couldn't stop thinking of his mother as Naomi - stayed long enough to see that he had settled in and was happy, then left to continue the traveling life she had adopted when her husband was sent to prison, and had discovered she thoroughly enjoyed. She transferred some of her money to him in the form of a monthly allowance - it was enough to cover things he would have to buy, such as books, with a little over. And in fact he had been very frugal, and the money he had saved in the years since he started at Rainier, while not a fortune, was a reasonably respectable amount. Especially since he moved in with Jim, and was no longer paying out most of his income as a TA for the warehouse where he had been living since he began his study of the effects of TV violence on Larry.

But now, with the arrival of this letter... things would have to change.

He sat for a while, thinking.

Once, he would have taken a deep breath, decided to cut his losses, and joined Naomi in her apparently aimless wandering around the world. But he couldn't do that now. Yes, it would be easy enough to go to the Rainier authorities and quit; he did want to get his PhD, but because he was ABD it would be easy enough for him to say he wanted to do a little more concentrated research, and arrange that when his dissertation was finished he could submit it.

But he had responsibilities now that made it impossible to do that.

And first, he would have to tell Jim...

***

Blair put the letter carefully into his backpack, put on his jacket and left his 'office' in Artifact Storage Room 3. About to head for his car, he paused for a second as he reached the stair.

His father - he shuddered at the thought - had somehow found out that he was at Rainier and sent his letter there, probably thinking he was still a student, possibly doing post-grad studies.

But what if Harold Walker had hired someone to watch him? Though if that were the case, would Walker - Blair refused to think of the man as 'father' - have sent his letter to Rainier, rather than 852 Prospect? Or maybe...

He might have been tracked down to Rainier, but his car had been in the garage for the past two weeks; he had taken the bus into town several of those days, had been given a lift by a fellow TA once, Jim had picked him up once and Megan had also picked him up once. And although on some of the days he had taken the bus he had gone to the PD, the other days he had stopped off to buy groceries. Someone following him might have been able to shadow him to the PD - but it would have been quite difficult for him to have been followed home.

But if he went for his car... anyone following him might see him drive off but was unlikely to have been parked anywhere near him. On the other hand... anyone seeing him drive off would probably get his licence number and, from that, be able to discover where he lived.

No. Better to leave his car where it was, and ask someone from the PD - possibly Joel - to collect it and, for the moment, leave it in visitor parking at the PD.

He headed out intent on catching a bus.

He took the first one that arrived, although it wasn't the best one to get to Prospect, but that didn't matter. He got off four stops from Rainier and went into a bookshop. There, he spent some ten minutes browsing. Nobody came in, but that didn't mean the door wasn't being watched. However, there was a back door that led into a delivery area for that shop and three others, and it was possible - though not common - for customers to use it.

As close to Rainier as it was, the shop carried quite a few books aimed at student custom, and Blair bought one that dealt with the nomadic life of the Sami - one aspect of anthropology about which he knew very little. Then he went out of the back door, crossed to the back door of a small grocer's (whose main door opened onto a road parallelling the one accessing the bookshop's main door). There he bought some fruit, then went out the main door and walked briskly down the road to the nearest bus stop.

This bus took him very close to the PD.

***

Jim looked up from the report he was checking as Blair walked in and put his backpack on the floor beside the desk.

"Chief? I wasn't expecting you here today."

"Something has happened that I need to discuss with you... but first - " He crossed to Joel, and Jim automatically dialed up his hearing.

"Joel, could I ask a favor?"

"For you, anything," Joel replied.

"Could you go to Rainier after you finish here, pick up my car and bring it back to here, leaving it in visitor's parking?"

"Easy," Joel said.

Blair handed over the key. "Thanks. I'm maybe being unnecessarily cautious, but I think I might be being followed by someone, and I'd rather make things - well, not easy for him. If I was using my car... "

Joel glanced over at Jim. "Does Jim know?" he asked.

"I'm just going to tell him. I only found out about this today - and I'm far from happy about it."

Joel nodded, and Blair crossed back to Jim's desk.

Jim looked at him. "You think someone is following you?"

Not surprised that Jim had been listening, Blair reached into his backpack and pulled out the letter. He gave it to Jim, who read it then looked up with a slight frown.

Blair took a deep breath, then gave Jim the facts as he now remembered them. "So I think Walker could easily have someone watching me, keeping track of my movements... I took a slightly convoluted route here and I think that if I was followed whoever it was lost me after I went into a bookshop by the front door and left by the back door. And if I am being watched it's probably by a private detective who's been given a false story about why his employer wants me watched."

Jim tapped the letter. " _'I will make you pay for the years you have cost me'_ ," he murmured. "It could as easily be a hit man, with orders to disable you, but not necessarily kill you. If you're dead, that's final; making you live with a permanent disability would be 'making you pay'."

Blair nodded. "And maybe waiting till I'd been disabled for the number of years he was in prison, and then having me killed?"

"Possibly not. I get the impression that he'd want you to suffer all your life - not just a few years."

"Mom always said she loved him, but I don't remember him as being a nice man. I think... I think I didn't love him at all. If I'd loved him it would have been very difficult to go to the police about him. But it was really quite easy... now that I remember about it. I was worried that the police wouldn't believe me, but they did."

"Right," Jim said. "Well, with this letter we have written proof of a threat - okay to bring Simon in on this?"

Blair sighed. "Probably a good idea." He followed Jim to Simon's office.

Jim knocked on the door, and opened it at Simon's brisk, "Come in!"

Simon looked from Jim to Blair, and back. "Problem?" he asked, although he was pretty sure that if there was, it wouldn't be one between Jim and Blair.

"Blair's being threatened, and we think he's being followed," Jim said, and gave Simon the letter. Simon read it, and looked up, a puzzled look on his face.

Blair said quietly, "Naomi had me hypnotized so that I wouldn't remember my own name, or my past. But after I got this letter today... I remembered." He took a deep breath, and gave Simon the explanation he had already given Jim.

"I think I need to contact Houston PD and ask them about... about this Harold Walker," Simon said thoughtfully.

Blair nodded, grateful that Simon had chosen not to say 'your father'. "And I'll need to contact Naomi - if I can - to warn her."

"Can you get time off Rainier?"

"No. I've got responsibilities to my classes; fair enough to ask another TA to stand in for me occasionally - that's easily repaid - but not for weeks, which this probably would be. I was working on lesson plans today, so it was easy to come here after I got that letter - by a slightly devious route. I think - I hope - I lost my follower quite early on."

"Do you have classes tomorrow?"

"A lecture at 11. Then I'd have been coming here."

"All right... I'll have a word with Captain Brewster and see if he'll agree to assigning a couple of his younger cops to 'Blair-guarding at Rainier' duty."

"Thanks, Simon," Blair said.

"Now off you go, the pair of you, and start thinking how to get home safely."

As the door closed behind them, Simon reached for his phone.

***

Jim and Blair made their way back to Jim's desk, and Blair took his cell phone and an address book from his backpack. He checked the address book and dialed.

"Hello. Is Naomi Sandburg there by any chance? Right. Do you have any idea where she might be? Okay, thank you." He hung up, checked the book and dialed again.

And again. And again.

His eighth call produced a result. "Thanks. Could I speak to her, please? It's her son... Hello, Mom."

/Blair? Are you all right? No, of course you are; if you weren't it's Jim who'd be calling./

"I'm all right, but we have a problem. I got a letter today from a man called Harold Walker. He's out of prison."

She drew in a gasping breath.

"And I remembered. Everything. He said he hadn't found you yet, but now he knows what name you're using, he'll be looking for you. I don't think he's realized how much time you spend away from America, so can I suggest that you don't come back until we can let you know it's safe."

/But what about you?/

"How he found me, I don't know, but we suspect he's used private detectives. He could have been trying to track us down all the time he was in prison, come to think of it. But Jim's here, and Simon is planning on getting a couple of patrol cops assigned to guarding me at Rainier - I've got responsibilities there that I can't ignore."

/But... Is he threatening you?/

"Yes, but remember I have Cascade PD watching out for me. And it's not just a job for the cops here; a lot of them are my friends. Protecting me will be personal for them."

/Be careful!/

"Always. And you stay away from America for the moment."

/I could ask Davis to get me new papers, a new identity.../

"Naomi, if I'm being watched a change of name won't help. It's safer for you not to visit, and if I know you won't, it'll give me peace of mind."

She was silent for a moment, then said, /If you're sure.../

"I'm sure. But can I ask you to let me know every time you move, and where you move to? Write to me care of the PD - I doubt there's any way he could intercept mail to me at the PD."

/Yes, I'll do that... and be careful!/

"Always," Blair said, and hung up.

***

"Sandburg." Simon's voice was surprisingly quiet.

Blair got up and crossed to Simon's office.

"Captain Brewster has authorized two of his men to work with you. Matt Coleman and Ted Diaz."

"Good choice," Blair said. "They're both like me - look a lot younger than they are. Easy for them to pass as students."

"You know them? Why am I not surprised."

"Matt's younger brother is in one of my classes at Rainier," Blair said. "He was hurt one day - a simple accident, he tripped over a shoelace that had become untied and fell - but he broke his arm; and Matt came to accompany him to the hospital. We'd seen each other at the PD, but only in terms of 'familiar face, don't know who he is', and that let us actually make contact. I wouldn't say we're friends - friendly acquaintances would be nearer it - but he and Ted will be easy for me to work with - " He broke off when he heard the knock on the door.

Blair was right, Simon registered as the two patrol cops walked in, followed a second later by Jim.

"Hi, Matt, Ted," Blair said.

They grinned at him before turning their attention to Simon. "Captain Brewster said you need us for an escort job," Matt said. "He said it might be fairly lengthy?"

Simon looked at Blair as he said, "He didn't give you any details?"

"No - he said you'd explain."

"I'll let Sandburg explain," Simon said.

They glanced at each other, then at Blair.

"I'm your assignment," he said, and went on to give them the details.

***

At 10:30, the three men left the PD (Matt and Ted having changed into the casual civilian clothes they kept in their lockers for occasional surveillance work) and Ted drove them in an unmarked car to Rainier. There, Blair and Matt got out, and Ted appeared to drive away; however, he didn't go far before turning and driving back, to park where he had a reasonable view of the door into Hargrove Hall. He tilted his seat back a little and sat, his eyes half closed; giving the impression of someone waiting for a passenger - someone who had either gone in to see one of the staff, or a student due to finish a lecture and with nothing else to keep him at university that day. A casual observer would think he was dozing as he waited. But he was watching; watching for anyone else who was watching Hargrove Hall.

Meanwhile Matt accompanied Blair, first to his office to pick up an artifact (and Blair gave him a notebook and pencil) then to the lecture hall; there, Matt took a seat among the students already there while Blair went to the podium. As he sat waiting for Blair at begin his lecture, Matt smiled to himself. This kind of assignment tended to be boring; hours of watching, waiting, even hoping that nothing would happen. Ted undoubtedly thought that sitting in the parking lot was the easier part of the job, but Matt knew, from things his brother had said, that Blair's lecture would be interesting and informative - even for someone who wasn't really academically minded and certainly wasn't interested in the way of life of the native tribes of the Amazon!

Once Blair started his lecture, Matt, staying in character as a student, carefully took notes - anyone seeing his notebook would automatically assume that he was a genuine student. And, he realized, Harve was right - Blair did make the subject surprisingly interesting, even for someone like him who really couldn't have cared less about the Yanomamo! By the time the lecture was halfway through, Matt was beginning to understand, as he never had before, just why Harve found anthropology so interesting... though he suspected that a different lecturer might not have made the subject so fascinating.

***

"Ellison!"

Jim moved quickly to Simon's office.

"Someone's head is going to roll over this." Simon's voice was grim.

Jim waited for Simon to continue.

"Walker's release was a mistake. It was his cellmate who was due for release, and the warden can only think that Walker had been planning this for a while - and had his cellmate bribed into acquiescence.

"The guards who had been assigned to that corridor were relatively new, and had genuinely thought that the cellmate - a man called Wilson - was Walker, and Walker was Wilson. So when they went to release Wilson, they took Walker out - and the real Wilson made no objection. My call to Houston made them check... and when he was taken before the Warden, Wilson admitted the truth. Admitted that Walker had promised him $500,000 if he swapped identities when new staff made their appearance.

"However, the money had been due to be delivered to Wilson's wife within two days of Walker's release, and it hadn't been delivered; Wilson was already suspicious that Walker had tricked him in order to get the early release, and had - he said - been planning on going to Warden Bofort the next day if it still hadn't arrived."

"So Walker must have organized a search for Sandburg while he was still in prison. He wrote - or had already written - the letter, posted it in Houston to make it look as if he was still there, and now he could be anywhere?" Jim growled.

"I think it probable that he's come to Cascade," Simon said, "and I think you do too."

"I'm going to Rainier," Jim said. "It's not that I don't trust Coleman and Diaz... but Sandburg's my partner - "

"And you don't like trusting his safety to anyone else," Simon said quietly. "Go. And I won't expect you in until either you bring in a prisoner or an ambulance has taken Walker to the morgue."

***

The truck would do for that day, Jim decided, but he'd have to vary vehicles a bit while 'operation protect Sandburg' was in progress. Pity they didn't have a photo of Walker... but he was quite sure that he would be aware of an uneven, excited heartbeat anywhere near Harcourt Hall. He was almost certain that Walker would make the hit himself, whatever he had decided to do, rather than employ anyone. If he had been legitimately released, he would have stayed in Houston, given himself an alibi; but released on false pretenses, he'd have to go on the run, and he'd want the satisfaction of having exacted revenge himself.

A lot of criminals accepted being caught as the luck of the draw; but it was amazing how many thought that the law didn't apply to them, and took it personally when they were caught, looking to 'punish' the police and the people who gave evidence against them.

He pulled into the familiar parking lot, immediately noticing and appreciating Diaz's 'I'm sleeping' pose; Jim could see that the man's eyes were half open and he was certainly paying attention to his surroundings.

Jim parked, and reached out with his hearing.

Nothing; nobody this side of the building except Diaz... But there were at least two other doors into the building that Jim knew of. Where Diaz was parked, he could see the main entrance as well as the one entered from the parking lot, and Jim gave him full marks for that piece of insight. But that third door...

Jim got out of the truck, locked the door and crossed to Diaz, who opened his eyes. "Detective?"

"You picked a good place to watch, but there's another door, on the other side of the building. I'm going to where I can watch it. Coleman's with Blair?"

"Yes."

Of course.

As he turned to walk towards the other side of the building, Jim really, really hoped that all this surveillance/guard duty would prove to be unnecessary, and that Walker would be recaptured a long way from Cascade.

Jim walked briskly around the front of the building. On the side away from the parking lot was a wide stretch of grass; he knew that during the summer, two or three lecturers often held their classes there. There was nobody there that day, but Jim wasn't really surprised; there was a slight chill in the wind. He turned his attention to the building -

\- just in time to hear a gunshot.

He ran into the building, instantly aware - from the noise - that the shot had come from one flight above and to the right. It took him only seconds to run up the stairs and see movement two doors to his right. Students were hurrying out of the room. Further down the corridor, doors were open and people looking out.

Despite the urgency of the situation, Jim couldn't help but smile to himself at the different reactions of the students who were exiting the room. Some were moving down the corridor fairly briskly, wanting to remove themselves from the scene. Some were moving away from the door, but more slowly, clearly just making room for the others coming out; and one or two were quite blatantly staying close to the door to watch what was happening inside the room.

Jim pushed past them, saying "Cascade PD!" and went into the room.

A man was lying on the floor, a small pool of blood under one shoulder. Matt Coleman was standing beside the man's head, his gun aimed straight at him while Blair was fastening his hands behind his back with what had to be Coleman's handcuffs. A gun was lying on the floor some distance away from them.

Jim went straight to them. "You okay, Chief?"

Blair glanced up. "Oh - hi, Jim. Yes, Matt did a great job!"

Jim glanced at the patrol cop. Coleman was keeping his attention totally on the man on the floor, though handcuffed and with a shoulder injury he was hardly any kind of threat.

"What exactly happened?"

"I was in the middle of the lecture when the door opened and this guy came in. It took him a couple of seconds to register where I was in the room, then he turned his gun on me, clearly thinking that the students were no threat to him - but those two seconds were enough to let Matt get his gun. He waited just long enough for him - " Blair nodded towards the man on the floor - "to say 'You're coming with me, Bruce', yelled 'Cascade PD! Drop the gun!' and when he didn't, Matt shot him."

There was the sound of hurried footsteps and Diaz ran into the room. Blair grinned. "Hi, Ted. Sorry you missed all the excitement."

"I just got a call from Dispatch - said you'd called for backup, and to get to you fast. There's another car coming." He looked at the man on the floor, then at Jim. "Did he come in by the door on this side?"

"Either that or he was already inside before the three of you got here," Jim said. He glared down at the man. "Your name?"

The man simply glared back.

"Jim - the Miranda!" Blair exclaimed.

"Ah - of course." And Jim quietly began to recite, "You are under arrest... " while Diaz, pulling on a glove, went to pick up the gun.

***

It was soon established that the injured man was Harold Walker, and Blair quietly agreed that he should simply be returned to Houston and to the cell that was awaiting him there. Only this time he would be on his own, with no cellmate he could bribe - or threaten - into helping him escape.

There was, of course, an IA check-up on his arrest, but Coleman had followed procedure all the way, and Jim saw to it that both Coleman and Diaz received a commendation for their (admittedly very brief) 'guardianship' of Blair.

Blair phoned Naomi again to tell her that Walker was once again behind bars and likely to have his sentence extended because of his threat towards Blair.

And though he now knew his real name, Blair decided that it would be easier and simpler to continue using the name Blair Sandburg.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Nat for her unending patience with my UK spelling


End file.
